Yes, that is the song of a new, and in my opinion, a powerful Lady Gaga song.
I guess I’m posting this here because this is supposed to be my “YEAH YOU CAN DO IT” goal tracker. But I have something to say to people who feel down on themselves.
That song is my favorite because I think that it’s amazing that there are people who can love themselves, it’s super inspiring and I wish I could be like those people.
Truth is, I do hate myself. I hate myself more than I let other people in on. I wish I weren’t so damn fat, and I believe that I am ugly. If given the choice of making out with me and a camel, I can honestly say I believe someone would chose bestiality. As luck would have it though, I managed to snag an awesome boyfriend who, until he reads this, doesn’t quite understand how deep this hatred is.
I don’t feel as if I have any talents worth noticing, and I truly hate that. I can’t sing, I can’t dance, I can’t draw, I can’t play a musical instrument and I’m not very good with numbers. I can’t memorize state capitals, I just had to look up to make sure I had the right form of capital, I can’t crochet, or knit, or sew. I have no fashion sense, I can’t organize, I’m not handy with a tool, nor am I good housekeeper. I can’t cook unless it involves a bag and a microwave. I’m not a connoisseur of wines and cheeses, I have never kept a plant alive, and I truthfully can only type 40 words per minute. I can’t hold my liquor, and I get yelled at when picking songs from a jukebox. My horse never wins at the water-gun-the-clowns-mouth game at carnivals and I can’t shoot a basketball. I fall on my ass when rollerskating, my left hand turns are disastrous.
Those are just a few of my many lack of talents.
I can smoke quickly, I can pack cigarettes pretty well, I’m an awesome photobomber, and I make an ok pie. I can hold my bladder for long periods of time, and I’m great at smiling through pain.
The last bit is what gets me the most. I don’t like people knowing how badly I really hurt. I smile a lot so it’s no big deal. I pretend that I like who I am, that’s my best talent. I can laugh about myself, and I can say that I love being me, but it isn’t true. I don’t feel like I have much to offer anyone. This could just be sadness talking, but I’m pretty useless.
But this is the deal.
If you don’t like who you are then you either fix it, or you deal with it. I’ve been dealing with self hatred my entire life, but I’ve been around for 23 years and if I haven’t killed me yet, then there’s probably something about me that I do like. Some sort of teeny tiny minuscule part of me that flashes in my head every time I think about just “ending it”. I do like that part. I like the part of who I am when I’m with Jacob, when he makes me feel pretty, or when he laughs at something I’ve said that ISN’T poking fun of myself. I like the part of who I am when I’m alone in my car and I’m singing as loudly as I can like no one else can hear me.
There’s always a minuscule part of you that you like. It’s going to be overshadowed by bigger self-hating and self-deprecating thoughts. But when those moments arrive and you actually, truthfully, honestly feel happiness you should embrace that with every fiber of your body and remember them when things get too rough and you feel like you can’t make it one more day being you. (apparently run on sentences are another flaw) You might such hard core, I’m not going to lie, there may be nothing going for you but that’s only for right now. Things change, you grow, people change, you learn, it’s all a matter of time.
That’s all I wanted to say tonight.
Goodnight beautifuls 
